No Place Like Home
by artemis-nz
Summary: With Conrad gone, Yuuri not only has the time to miss him but also the incentive to act on it. Conrad/Yuuri. Lime.


**My little Christmas present to the ConYuu fans out there, as well as what I would consider to be my first real piece of erotic fanfiction (hence the rating). Could perhaps be thought of as a sequel, of sorts, to 'Like Summer'. Hoping people enjoy the story, and wishing everyone safe and happy holidays, and a very Merry Christmas if you celebrate. Thank you for reading.  
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**- Artemis**

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It is nearly three in the morning, and there is snow piled up against the castle walls outside. Yuuri, sitting up in bed, is not shivering from the cold.

If anything, he is too warm. Somewhere in his belly, a snake is coiling and uncoiling in a way that is making him distinctly uncomfortable.

He glances over at the far side of the bed. He is alone, of course – his engagement with Wolfram has ended nearly half a year ago now, and it is no longer considered proper for the two of them to share a chamber at night, save for when they are reading bedtime stories to their daughter. Still, it does not feel right, Yuuri thinks – he should not be thinking and feeling these things in the same place that he and Wolfram once lay, when it is someone else entirely with whom his mind is now occupied.

So he lies back down again, resolutely closing his eyes and pretending there is nothing out of place, his arms down stiffly by his sides, forcing himself to breathe in and out evenly. He cannot, _should_ not, be going down this path when he is still so unsure – what if he has been misreading the signs, what if everything up until now has been mere coincidence, what if Conrad hadn't meant anything by it when he had-

Yuuri whips a hand away from where it has been unconsciously inching downwards, and then lets out a frustrated sigh. He has done this before, of course he has – he is, after all, a healthy, growing boy. But before this it has always been at home, while his family is away or asleep, and his mind filled with only the vaguest and ambiguous of things – firm but supple skin, or the gentle curve of a shoulder, or the soft brushing of a thigh against his own. Now, his heated imaginings are anything but unclear. Nor are they as innocent. He sees everything with a vivid clarity that makes him blush to even be reminded of it. It does not help matters that these reminders descend upon him in the most inconvenient of times, or that he is cooped up indoors alongside everyone else, moody and restless while the landscape slowly freezes around them.

Everybody, except Conrad. Conrad, who Yuuri misses with a fierce ache every moment of every day. Only now that Conrad is gone, ordered away on some mission or other, has Yuuri come to accept that these feelings are not going away like he had at first assumed – hoped – would happen. Rather, they have strengthened day by day, until-

His hand has shifted again while his thoughts have been elsewhere, and Yuuri gives it up; it is clear he will get no more rest tonight. So no matter his guilt, it is almost a relief to slide out of bed and feel the icy stone beneath him as he pads as silently as he is able out the door and down the hallway.

He does not quite know where his feet are taking him until he reaches his destination. The steam curls around him enticingly as he enters the bath chamber, drawing him irrevocably in.

Nobody should be around at this dark hour, but he makes sure he is alone anyway, before hastily making his way deeper into the chamber and shedding his pyjamas. He has made his way here calmly enough, but now that there is no turning back, a kind of urgency grips him, robbing him almost immediately of his breath again.

So he does not slide into the water itself, but instead chooses to seat himself by the pool's edge where, tentatively at first, he begins to touch.

The desire that has ebbed away somewhat since leaving his bed returns in full force, although Yuuri is careful to remain quiet. He bites down on his lower lip as his body rapidly responds to his ministrations, squeezing his eyes shut. It has never been quite like this before, never so potent a sense of need. Shivers begin making their way again down his back and his legs, small currents of desire that build up and up and up, until they are no longer currents at all but waves, crashing their way down on top of him, making it difficult for him to remain still or soundless. Yet still he attempts to cling on to his inhibition, for some reason not quite able to fully overcome or release his control even as he feels himself being swept out to sea – even as he begins, feverishly, to stoke harder, faster. He can feel himself losing the battle but gaining something else in return, a result of the steadily rising pressure in several different spots of his body, but one in spot particular. He is not sure how much longer he will be able to wait, and yet for some inexplicable reason, he cannot bring himself to let go. Poised and teetering on the edge of a cliff, he does not have the courage to take the plunge.

And then, completely out of place, a slight noise behind him, a sharply in-drawn breath.

Yuuri freezes up, feeling as though it is all happening in slow-motion as he swivels his upper body around to face the sound.

"Conrad…" Yuuri's voice is faint, almost a whisper, his eyes wide with horror. "It's not… it's not what it…" A moan betrays him, and a treacherous bead of sweat trails its way down his side.

Conrad has evidently just arrived back, and about to enter the water himself; his hair damp and windswept, smudges of dirt here and there marking his body. He is naked, his clothing and a towel discarded a few feet away. He must not have seen Yuuri for the steam up until now.

As an involuntary shudder runs its way through Yuuri's body, Conrad swallows, for once unable to find his voice. Always a man of action, all he can do now is simply stare. Yuuri gapes back at him, all tousled hair and dark eyes and flushed cheeks. He squirms uncomfortably under Conrad's gaze, and the soldier's eyes are quite suddenly drawn to Yuuri's hips.

"C-Conrad, I-" Yuuri gives another gasp, and knows that there is no way he can explain himself out of this one, caught red-handed in the act of… and he is aware that his hand continues to move despite the situation he is now in, almost desperately caressing, but he can't stop, god, he can't _stop_-

A third strangled groan escapes him, and Conrad stirs from his hypnosis, his eyes not moving from that spot. His voice, when he finally finds it, has gone quite suddenly husky. "Allow me to assist you, Heika." His legs move of their own accord, and in a few quick strides he reaches the poolside. He kneels, his hand moving to cover Yuuri's, halting its progress.

"Let me", he says again, and Yuuri's own fingers are suddenly gripping Conrad's shoulders, nails digging into his back, head leaning down into his chest to bury the sounds there that are quite suddenly crowding into his throat, up and out – throaty, guttural noises that he had not realised he was capable of making.

"Conrad… please…" He does not even know what he is asking for, has no words to express the pressure in his stomach or the almost painful hammering of his heart as Conrad begins, slowly, to stroke.

Yuuri's breath hitches in his throat, but even though his mind is racing and his face still burns with humiliation, his body does not seem to care a whit. He shifts, moving forward, seeking still closer contact. The small part of his brain that is still processing information notes that Conrad, too, is not unaffected by this – Conrad's own breathing has grown more rapid, and his skin is heating quickly under Yuuri's exploring hands. When Yuuri shifts again, experimentally this time, there's a unexpected growling sound that comes from Conrad's mouth. His fingers, gentle but insistent, increase the tempo of their movement. Yuuri whimpers slightly, and instead of attempting to stifle the sound, he lifts his head and just lets it out.

Conrad, ever the master of self-control, cannot resist the invitation. He moves before Yuuri can react, and bites down on his neck.

The force is only slight, but Yuuri's response is immediate. His eyes fly open and he jerks forwards uncontrollably, his moan this time echoing around the chamber. Now he is practically sitting on the man's lap, and they are both panting in earnest, and still Conrad continues with the motions of his hands, fingers trembling ever-so-slightly while Yuuri himself is struggling to put even a thought together in his head, especially when Conrad leans forward and starts murmuring his name right next to his ear in _that_ tone of voice, over and over like it's the sweetest sound he's ever uttered-

"Con… Conrad…!"

Conrad shushes him with his mouth, and this time it's not as gentle, because while Conrad continues to pleasure with one hand, his other finds its way to the back of Yuuri's neck, cushioning him as Conrad pushes forward with his chest, lowering them both gradually to the floor. Compared to Conrad's body heat, the tiles on Yuuri's back are electrifyingly cold. Conrad's mouth is still covering his, so Yuuri's next involuntary noise is muffled, but for some reason it seems to drive Conrad crazy. He sits bolt upright suddenly, struggling to draw breath, clearly attempting to regain some form of calm. His movements have stopped in their tracks.

"If- if you don't wish- we should stop now if-"

In his wildest dreams, Yuuri has never imagined Conrad could be so incoherent, nor his gaze quite so intense. But for some reason, these things only serve to make him all the more impatient. He struggles to form the words that will make Conrad touch him again.

"No! Don't… don't stop, please Conrad, don't-" And because Conrad is now more or less straddling him anyway, and given that he is far beyond caring about any dignity he may or may not have had left, and since above all he misses, _needs_, that body contact atop him again, needs _Conrad_, he gives a purposeful shift once more, bucking his hips upward.

Conrad's hands are around Yuuri's wrists before either of them realise it, pinning them above his head so that Yuuri is barely able to move, and then it all blurs into one inevitable, beautiful, uncontainable chaos. Conrad is biting and licking and nipping and growling all the way down Yuuri's body, and Yuuri is writhing and struggling and gasping and pleading and all but howling his pleasure, the friction becoming unbearable, doing absolutely everything in his power to get closer, closer, _more_-

And then there is a forceful jolt, and a literal blue flash of something that sends shock waves through both of them – Yuuri, in a moment of sudden and utter clarity, recognises that it is his own power that has caused this, some reaction from deep within his body – and then it does not matter, nothing matters at all, because he cannot hold back any longer even if he wants to.

From somewhere inside himself, a voice says, _Jump_.

His body gives one last, powerful shudder. His mouth opens as his back arches at an almost impossible angle, his head thrown back, and what comes out is not so much a moan as it is a scream – a wordless, keening cry as he is consumed completely. His body is on fire, and then he is quickly falling, spiralling, drowning- he cannot think, cannot speak, cannot move, cannot breathe…

At some indefinable point, through closed lids, the first thing he becomes aware of is Conrad, collapsed beside him and calling his name again, only this time it sounds almost concerned.

"Nngh", Yuuri says, and tries again, his body heavy. "Conrad…"

"…It's alright, Yuuri, it's alright, you're alright…"

Yuuri wonders why on earth he wouldn't be alright after _that_, whatever it was, and then realises that his eyes are in fact open, and there is something wet coming from them, trailing down each side of his face. He moves sluggishly, wiping away the tears with his fingertips. He doesn't understand why he should be crying, because he's never felt less unhappy in his life about anything, nor more alive. His entire body is tingling. When he steals a look down, he half expects to see sparks coming from his hands or something, and is almost surprised to see that everything looks normal. He knows, however, with a kind of certainty he cannot justify, that something is irreversibly changed. Having this knowledge both scares him and thrills him, and so despite his exhaustion, he is filled with an exhilaration that he has never before experienced.

He looks up at Conrad then, this awareness perhaps showing somehow on his face, and if Conrad was worried a moment before, his expression is replaced by a look in his eye that Yuuri wishes he could have seen long ago; he has, perhaps, been waiting for it without knowing it, and wonders if Conrad has been waiting for it too.

Neither of them is ready to get up just yet, but with an effort, Yuuri summons enough energy to roll onto his side. He presses his lips to just above Conrad's collarbone.

"Welcome home, Conrad."

Conrad looks every bit as weary as Yuuri feels, but gathers Yuuri up into his arms anyway, and his smile is true. "I'm home, Yuuri."


End file.
